


Silent Night

by Malkuthe



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Christmas, Christmas Presents, Cookies, Gift Giving, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 19:32:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9199472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malkuthe/pseuds/Malkuthe
Summary: Shiro had always thought that Silent Night was a soothing song, but now that Keith was away for Christmas and the nights were silent, he was beginning to reconsider his opinion.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I choose not to use archive warnings for this fic because to do so would be to spoil the effect that I'm going for.
> 
> However, I'm only going to say this once:
> 
>  ** _WARNING:_** If you do not think that you can handle angst, then don't proceed.

Ever since he’d been a child, Shiro had found the Christmas carol “Silent Night” a soothing song. It certainly described his evenings now that Keith was away on an adventure that only Keith could take. The timing had been horrible, but once that particular journey had come calling, there was nothing that Shiro or Keith could do.

Shiro smiled at the framed photo of himself and Keith that was set on top of their shared dresser. It was of the two of them sitting on Red’s snout. Keith had given it to him as a Christmas present a few years ago and, even though it had been some time now, Shiro still remembered the day that the photo had been taken like it was yesterday.

The paladins had just finished a mission at the time—and a difficult one at that. For some reason, which Shiro hadn’t figured out back then, Keith had insisted on having a photo taken.

Although Shiro had not wanted the photo taken at first, since he felt as though they were hardly presentable enough for one—He was covered in grime and dirt, his armour was scuffed in a few places, and there was a patch on his cheek where the skin was raw and bleeding. Keith had not been in much better condition but had insisted on the photo anyway. Besides, it had not been much of a conundrum back then since they had only just survived the mission and emotions were running high at the time. Shiro had not wanted to turn Keith down just in case they didn’t have a next time.

Lance had offered to take the photo at the time, and, to Shiro’s, and he had no doubt Keith’s surprise, Keith had reluctantly agreed to let him take it. What hadn’t been much of a surprise was Lance immediately saying “okay, take a wacky pose!” and almost getting punched in the face by an irate Keith. In the end, Pidge took the photo—and it was a beautiful one.

Shiro shook his head and traced the frame of the photo. Years on, long after their defeat of Zarkon’s empire and the ragged fragments that it had left behind, the paladins’ shenanigans had hardly changed. Maybe it was because they wanted to reclaim to some of the childish innocence that they had lost or given up along the way. In any case, it helped, now that the future of the universe was safer but no less uncertain than it had been when they first stepped into Blue that fateful day.

The war had been a long one, Shiro remembered with a hint of bitterness. Even with the might of Voltron, the Galra had taken quite a long time to beat. In the end, the paladins had done their job and broken Zarkon’s iron-fisted rule over much of the universe. They had thought that they would get to live the rest of their lives in peace after that day—but they had been so naïve to think that the defeat of one evil in the universe meant the end of their duty as its defender.

In the years since Zarkon, there had been tyrants every now and again, with delusions of grandeur, that sought to retrace his path to greatness. Compared to Zarkon, though, putting the upstarts in their place was child’s play. The paladins had not had to re-form Voltron in years, now.

In any case, Shiro had to remind himself, today was not the day to think about such things. As much as he wanted to be morose since he missed Keith so much, he knew without a doubt that Keith would want him to play the gracious host. He looked longingly in the direction of the bed and the made-up half of it where Keith usually lay. He smiled, fondly, and made his way out of the bedroom.

The silence of the apartment that he and Keith shared kept Shiro company as he crept to the kitchen. The floors were chilly, even though there was no reason for them to be. The Alteans had been quite obsessive about recreating the traditional Earth Christmas in the castle. Shiro had no doubt that they meant well, and, for the most part, he appreciated it.

Allura had even gone so far as to essentially bully Earth to provide the paladins with a regular supply of Earth ingredients. At first it had only been for Christmas, but Allura had taken a liking to some Earth foods, so eventually shipments of all sorts of ingredients were sent regularly to the castle.

Shiro pulled open a cupboard and reached for a tin of cocoa powder. He spooned a generous amount of it into an empty mug that said “hottest paladin” along the bottom. Lance’s face adorned the front of the mug, but it was scrawled over with black marker, and a crude representation of Shiro had been drawn right beside it.

The room began to brighten as Shiro reached down for a kettle. He filled it with water and set it on the stove. He sighed, missing the way that Keith would grumble about waking up too early.

Shiro reached into a nearby fridge and pantry, retrieving the necessary ingredients to make cookies. Eating raw cookie dough was a guilty pleasure of his, but today, as much as he wanted to, he wasn’t going to stuff his face with it. At least not in raw form. He was making the traditional platter of chocolate chip cookies and a glass of milk for Santa.

The chuckle bubbled up out of him before Shiro could stop it. Here they were, all adults old enough to know that Santa wasn’t real. It had been fun, for a few weeks, to watch Coran and Allura puzzle over how a jolly, rotund old fellow managed to visit billions of houses a single night, fitting down chimneys where they existed. Again, Shiro thought it had something to do with recapturing some childlike innocence. Truth be told, he had definitely felt like a child, playing that prank on the poor Altaeans.

By the time that the dough had been portioned out into dollops on a baking sheet, the kettle’s high-pitched whistle interrupted the merry tune that Shiro was humming under his breath. Quickly, he slid the pan and the cookies into the oven and removed the kettle from the stove.

Shiro poured the hot water out into the mug, watching with a growing hunger as it quickly took on the colour of the cocoa powder. A quick stir with a spoon evened out the consistency, after which he dropped three marshmallows into the hot beverage.

After taking a sip of the hot cocoa, which was still a bit too hot for his liking, Shiro set a kitchen timer and made his way over to the living room, which welcomed him with the cheery crackling of an artificial fire. It hadn’t been his idea, in the first place, to decorate the place like it was a real Earth living room, but Allura had insisted. Shiro had grown to love it—especially when it was decorated with the typical Christmas-y flair.

The plush chair that he liked to sit in the most creaked as Shiro lay across it. His lower back was propped up by one of the armrests while his legs were draped over the other. He sipped at the mug of hot cocoa that he held against his chest as he looked out the “window” that showed woods currently enjoying a gentle snowfall.

The kitchen timer rang out, almost obnoxious with its high-pitched screeching. It shook Shiro out of his reverie. He had lost track of the time, watching the snowflakes drift down past the “window” sill.

When Shiro opened the oven, his mouth couldn’t help but water at the aroma of freshly-baked cookies that immediately suffused the air. It was a good thing that he had to half-eat a few of them—as tradition dictated—to make it appear as though Santa had had a bite, because he wasn’t sure how long he would have been able to resist if that had not been the case.

Juggling three cookies between his oven-mitted hands, Shiro barely managed to take big bites out of them. He set them on a plate he pulled out of the cupboard, generously dusting the china with crumbs from his mitts.

It was almost time, Shiro thought to himself, for the other paladins to come and join him for their annual “Christmas party.” Coran, no doubt, would be arriving in his rotund suit, sporting a chest-length fluffy white beard. Allura, on the other hand, would certainly be wearing a Christmas elf costume as she always did, every year.

Shiro shot a glance at a nearby wall clock and noticed that he had severely underestimated the time that he had left. He hurriedly poured out a glass of milk and placed it, along with the cookies, on a small table by the faux fireplace in the living room.

There was hardly enough time in between showering and getting dressed for Shiro to finish his last-minute preparations but somehow, he managed to squeeze in darting into his office and pulling out the present that he had bought for Keith. He grabbed a box to put the gift in and set to work wrapping it up.

The “doorbell,” which was really just a chime to indicate that someone was standing outside the door, rang just as Shiro was finishing up. He quickly made his way to the living room and added the present to the ever-growing stack under the Christmas tree before he opened the door to welcome the guests into his home.

“Hey,” Shiro said, pulling open the door to let Lance and Hunk in. The two brushed past him, laughing and singing ‘jingle bells’ as they tried—and nearly failed at—balancing the stack of gifts that they had brought with them.

“Come on, Shiro,” said Lance, setting down his pile of gifts beside the Christmas tree. “Sing with us!” Though on any other day, he would have declined, Shiro chuckled and joined in with a heartfelt rendition of ‘Jingle Bell Rock.’

Lance was miming an air guitar when the doorbell chimed again. Shiro opened the door to Pidge, who was dragging behind her, Matt, who looked quite worse for wear. No doubt because he had forgotten all about Christmas again and had spent the last handful of hours desperately searching for presents.

Allura and Coran arrived not long after, in their usual over-the-top costumes, with Coran lugging around a sack of gifts that he had insisted on carrying on his own—despite Shiro’s offered assistance.

Of course the festivities kicked off with Hunk revealing that half of the ‘presents’ he had brought with him were filled with sweets and Christmas food. Everyone had been more than thrilled to dig in. Shiro, especially, since he didn’t really have the skill cook food like Hunk did.

After the meal, everyone sat down in front of the hearth, just talking. There wasn’t much to catch up on since they still saw each other pretty regularly.

Board and parlor games happened soon after. They were a riot. Hunk managed to sit on Pidge while playing musical chairs, and Allura somehow managed to kick Coran in the face while playing twister. Shiro, to his credit, managed to secure a win in Clue off of a lucky guess, while Lance quit a game of Monopoly in utter disgust.

By the time that they got around to the gift-giving time, the day had progressed such that the woods outside the artificial window had taken on the glow of sunset.

Lance’s gifts were, as per usual, his typical brand of weirdness. Pidge got a pair of clippers from him, while Shiro got another “best paladin” mug, although this one wasn’t modified like the one he preferred to use. Allura received a handkerchief with Lance’s face printed on it, and Coran received from a new beard for his Santa Claus costume.

Shiro shook his head as everyone else exchanged gifts, chuckling at Matt’s poorly thought-out attempts at presents. He handed a small parcel to Allura, which contained a locket containing an image of the late king on it.

Pidge got Shiro a handful of stuffed animals that he absolutely adored the moment that he set his eyes on them. There was even one of Black that he immediately set on his shoulder. Hunk got Shiro a tub of raw cookie dough while Coran revealed a set of nifty new weights that Shiro had been eyeing for a while now.

The best present that Shiro received that night, though, was yet another framed photo. This one had been taken during entirely different circumstances from the one that Keith had gotten him. He and Keith looked so happy, standing next to each other in formal dress. He remembered when the picture had been taken—during the party that they had held in order to celebrate the defeat of Zarkon.

Almost too soon, the time for everyone to leave for the evening arrived. Shiro half-wanted them to stay, but he was also worn out. He hugged the photo that Allura had given him to his chest and stroked it lovingly.

Even though Shiro and Keith still looked haggard from being unable to sleep the previous night, it was clear that they were both happy and relieved to be alive. With a contented sigh, Shiro made his way back to the bedroom and propped up the framed photo on the dresser beside the one that Keith had given him.

Shiro made his way back to the living room and sat down in the chair. He and Keith always saved their gifts for each other for last—when everyone had left. He had not seen any reason to break from that tradition just because Keith was away. He always waited for everyone to leave.

Shiro dug around under the tree and pulled out a box that was shoddily wrapped in old gift paper. It looked like it had been wrapped and unwrapped time and again. It was addressed to him in Keith’s scrawling handwriting, haphazardly printed across a lopsided card tacked on top of the box. He also took out the gift that he had wrapped for Keith earlier.

Keith had always insisted on Shiro opening his gift first. Shiro usually argued that Keith open _his_ first, but since Keith wasn’t here right now, Shiro didn’t have a choice.

Carefully, Shiro peeled off the tape that held the wrapping paper together. Very gently, he unfolded the wrapping paper, straightening it out on the table before picking up the ornate wooden box that it contained within.

The box had the emblem of Voltron emblazoned on its top, burned into the wood with skill, but certainly without the refinement of a master. It was Keith’s work. Carefully, Shiro pried the lid off of the box and picked up the object that was inside, nestled in velvet. It was a gold-and-black pin in the likeness of Black, beautiful and intricate in its detail.

“Oh Keith,” Shiro whispered, tears brimming in his eyes. “You shouldn’t have…”

Shiro got up from where he had been sitting and made his way to the kitchen. He fixed another mug of hot cocoa, though this time he added five marshmallows instead of three. He made his way over to the artificial fireplace, legs heavy, and set the mug on the mantel.

“Dammit, Shiro,” he heard, “You promised you wouldn’t get too emotional this year.”

Hot cocoa spilled over the edge of the mug and splashed against the mantel as Shiro adjusted its position. “Here’s your present, Keith,” he whispered, placing the meticulously-wrapped box on the mantel. He pushed it toward the urn that stood there.

“I-If you can’t open it…” Shiro said, his fingers trembling. “I—” He bit back the tears. “I’ll add it to the rest under the tree,” he said, having to bite his lip to keep it from quivering. He fought back the tears, but to no avail. They came, anyway. Hot and angry, the tears spilled from him in his solitude.

Shiro knelt by the Christmas tree and gently pushed the gift under the needles of the artificial pine. Then, he sat at the coffee table and pulled out a tape dispenser. He got to work re-wrapping the present that Keith had gotten him so long ago, placing that under the tree with all the other unopened presents—each one addressed to Keith.

It wasn’t long before the pain and the sobbing trapped Shiro in his chair. His entire body was wracked with tremors as he sucked in trembling breaths. His heart thundered in his chest, and he felt as though he was falling, endlessly, into a dark pit. He clutched at the armrests of his chair with white knuckles as he fought to bring himself back to the surface.

Because that was what Keith would have wanted him to do.

Shiro had always thought that Silent Night was a calming song, but in Keith’s absence, the silence was deafening. He was glad for the support of his friends—their condolences and their attempts at lifting him up.

But at the end of the day, it was the silence that remained.

**Author's Note:**

> And done.
> 
> I hope y'all had a very happy holiday season. I know, I know, I'm evil. How did you like the story, though? I know it's not my best work, but it was just a concept that I just had to get out there.
> 
> This piece was actually quite important to me, as I used it to deal with a lot of emotions that I have had to struggle with since the middle of November. I haven't really shared the why with many people, but it was news that hit me hard even though it happened to someone that I had never even talked to. In any case, I'm at peace with it now. I've come to terms with what happened.
> 
> But yeah, tell me, did you enjoy the read?


End file.
